


Truth Fears No Questions

by starfishing



Category: Kuroshitsuji
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-25
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishing/pseuds/starfishing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just as easy to assume that a fine thread of Machiavellianism ran through him, and perhaps that was true as well, but it still was not the reason that Sebastian was under orders never to lie to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth Fears No Questions

It was easy to assume that he simply didn't appreciate being lied to, Ciel supposed. After all, who did? It was just as easy to assume that a fine thread of Machiavellianism ran through him, and perhaps that was true as well, but it still was not the reason that Sebastian was under orders never to lie to him.

The fact that Sebastian had asked was at once a pleasure and a comfort; it meant that Sebastian was, as always, delightfully clever in having realized that there was an underlying reason at all. At the same time, it meant that he had not yet sussed out what that reason was, which was both a pleasure and a comfort all its own. Ciel spent days in silence after the question was posed. A day for reflection on the question, half a day each for reflection on Sebastian and deliberation on whether or not to reply, and another two days for reflection on the answer. Time was nothing to him anymore.

The roots of Ciel's want for honesty ran deeper than he expected Sebastian might think. They came from years before the two of them had ever met, before Ciel had been snatched and sullied, before his parents had been stolen from him, before he had become suitable prey for a slavering demon. Honesty was a thing of value, given to him by both of his parents, taught to him one evening in a cool night breeze, wrapped in his mother's arms and watching his father's broad back at the window.

The three of them had been at a dinner that evening, and Ciel had spent most of the event in the company of Elizabeth. He was pleasantly drowsy the whole way home, but remembered hearing his father chuckle that perhaps those few sips of wine had done the boy some good - he was nearly asleep. Even when the carriage had stopped at home, Ciel couldn't rouse himself. He felt his father's strong arms around him, lifting him up high and out into the spring night.

It was his mother's soft gasp and cry that woke him at last, starting him upright in his father's arms. Before the alarm had subsided, his father's voice hummed deep in his chest - Ciel could feel it as well as he could hear it. "Rachel, stay here," he said, setting Ciel on his feet beside her. She knelt to wrap her arms around Ciel, and even through the inherent security of her embrace, he could feel the beginnings of fear slithering in.

Their manor's sturdy oak door was knocked back on its hinges. In the dim light, Ciel was able to make out the bare walls of the parlour, paintings vanished and tables empty.

"Mother?" he asked, hushed. "What happened?"

Her voice trembled when she answered him, but her grip on him was firm and reassuring. "A bad man stole our things. Your father will make sure he's gone before we come in."

Concern for his father never crossed Ciel's mind. So far as he was concerned, his father was indomitable; no bad man could possibly harm him. He waited there with his mother until his father returned.

"The house is empty," he said softly.

"Did they take all of our things?" Ciel demanded to know. "Did they take Sebastian?" His dog must have given the robbers what-for.

His father didn't answer, precisely. Instead, he said, "It's late. We can go over everything in the morning." Ciel was swept off his feet again, carried up the stairs in only one of his father's arms; the other wrapped securely around his mother's waist. The sure swiftness with which his father ascended the stairs and the snug little knot of their family eased Ciel's anxiety like honey lemon tea.

For the first time in years, he was taken to bed with his parents, nestled in the center of the bed. His mother dressed him before herself, and pulled him close beneath the blankets, kissing his head. At the window, his father stood, facing away from them, hands clasped gently at his back.

"Vincent..."

At his mother's whisper, his father looked over his shoulder, a small smile on his face, calm and quiet as snowfall. "They won't be coming back," he said, "and everything will be all right."

Ciel felt his mother's body ease beside him, felt her exhale softly, and felt himself do the same. In the hush that followed, he asked her, "How do you know he's right?" He didn't doubt his father, either, of course, but he suddenly wondered _why_.

The smile was audible in her voice. "Your father would never lie to me. He never has, and he never will."

Ciel turned his head on the pillow to watch his father's silhouette, just barely blacker than the night beyond him. Snuggled safely in bed, sleep was returning, weighting his eyelids and his limbs. He fell asleep before his father ever came to bed, but he woke up pressed gently between his parents, his mother's face buried in his hair and his father's arm over his side. He stayed in bed for hours that morning.

Four days and some hours after Sebastian addressed him, Ciel stirred, opened his eyes again. Sebastian hadn't spoken since.

"In a world of liars and blasphemers," Ciel said quietly, "one should be able to count on the truth from one man above all others."

"His butler?" Sebastian asked, a laugh in his husky voice.

"His father."

Ciel's answer seemed to stop Sebastian for an hour or so. At last, he asked, "Is that what you wanted from me?"

"No," Ciel answered, unhesitating. "I wanted it from my father. I settled for it from you."

"And have I satisfied you?"

Ciel wasn't sure if Sebastian was seeking an answer or simply provoking him. He was never sure, even now. Sebastian, like Vincent, was clever and silver-tongued, playful and wholly irritating.

"Only as much as my father did. I'm a difficult man to satisfy."


End file.
